"Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong."

- Lao-Tzu

A fuzzy, dark shape clouded her vision. As it loomed closer, the distinct lines of Jay's angular face swam into her vision. His expression was stricken in terror and he was shouting at her-was he calling her name?-but someone was screaming and Kaz couldn't hear him.

It took her a couple of heartbeats to realize she was the one screaming. It took her a few more to register the pain. It bubbled up her chest-through her arms and down her legs-spreading tendrils of molten pain like fiery fingers reaching from her core. Her body was a livewire, trembling from the force of the sensation. Hot tears burned the corners of her eyes and all the way down her face. Her ears had begun to ring again, nearly drowning out the sound of her own shrieking.

Kaz realized she was hugging herself securely around the middle, pressing into her as though they intended to keep her guts from bursting out. She craned her neck, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain in her abdomen as she peered down her body in an attempt to discern the source of her agony.

She immediately regretted doing so.

Her arms were soaked in crimson blood where they fastened securely around her belly. Trickles of fresh scarlet seeped from underneath her elbows, pooling into dark stains on the mattress. I'm just wrecking my bed lately, she thought suddenly, hysterically.

Kaz whimpered hoarsely, peeling her arms from her middle to catch a glimpse of the sight beneath. The sight of a raw, gaping wound greeted her… in the precise location where the blade from her dreams had slipped into her skin. Every small movement caused dark blood to froth up from the wound. Her throat went dry, her shaking intensified as she fought a losing battle to suppress her panic.

She remembered Jay suddenly, eyes raking around her bedroom in an attempt to locate the other. Her vision began to blur around the edges; her mind became foggy as her benumbed body began to shut down.

"J-Jay…" she gurgled, unable to summon enough air into her lungs to conjure anything louder than a whisper.

As though he had heard her, the fuzzy outline of Jay poured into the bedroom and approached her so quickly it made her dizzy. She watched, fascinated, as the cloudy outline of his mouth moved. He was speaking to her, gesticulating wildly with his hands, yet the ringing in her ears effectively drowned out his words.

Kaz just smiled, albeit goofily, back at him. Her tongue seemed to be fashioned of lead and completely incapable of forming coherent words. She experienced an alarming feeling of disconnect from her own body; it began to feel heavy and waterlogged, as though a small army of cats were sitting on her chest.

The excruciating pain that consumed her senses slowly rescinded to an unpleasant ache. Her eyes rolled back into her head and Kaz succumbed to blissful unconsciousness, eager to escape the misery of this reality.

The pain was back when she awoke. If her mouth hadn't felt as though it were stuffed with cotton, Kaz would have erupted in a litany of curses. An icy wind whipped around her face, sending strands of loose hair tickling across her features and numbing her cheeks and nose. The back of her head was pressed against soft leather, shifting against the material as her body swayed in time to the movement around her.

The motion jarred through her body. One-two-three-four one-two-three-four. Every beat sent a small explosion of pain ricocheting through her, originating from her abdomen. Kaz's eyes flickered open, though she immediately shut them as landscape whizzed by in a blur of greens and yellows. Sudden nausea rocketed through her and Kaz could taste bile in the back of her throat.

I'm on a horse, Kaz thought as her brain finally fit the pieces together. She then realized that she was curled on the front of the horse, held securely in place by its rider. Kaz chanced opening her eyes once more, tilting her head to squint blearily at the face of the rider.

A blonde, bearded man met her gaze, grey-brown eyes full of anxiety. His long, wavy hair hurtled behind him in a curtain of gold, causing Kaz to wonder absently just how fast they were going. Sunlight glinted off the scales of his armor and the sheen of his hair.

"Hold on son, we approach Edoras," the man informed her urgently.

A flash of annoyance at the mistaken gender fluttered through her yet was quickly squelched as a particularly awful surge of pain erupted from her midsection, momentarily obliterating her train of thought. Kaz squeezed her eyes shut and focused on her breathing in an attempt to stifle the nausea and pain that roared through her each time the horse's hooves connected with the earth.

I can't escape it… even in my dreams… what… the… fuck…

Kaz felt herself begin to black out again, the whole of her reality becoming fuzzy around the edges. Her body, like in the real world, vehemently rejected the amount of misery it was subjected to and sought to escape. Kaz willingly followed it into a rapturous reprieve, managing only to squeeze out one last, fleeting thought before darkness consumed her once more.

Heal…

Someone was yelling her name.

Kaz opened her eyes.

She blinked as she saw… nothing.

She stared out into the blackness for a moment, gathering her senses. Kaz was lying on her stomach, cheek pressed flush to a cool surface. It felt like slippery-like marble-but grooved-like polished wood-at the same time. Silence had settled around her, the air stale with nullity.

Kaz shifted, expecting to feel a pulse of pain reverberate from her stomach, yet was pleasantly surprised when none came. She scrambled to all fours, looking down to assess herself. The darkness, however, was absolute and completely obscured her vision. She could not see herself.

Kaz groped at her stomach, feeling nothing but the soft material of her hoodie and the smooth, unmarred skin beneath. She breathed a sigh of relief.

She then looked around but found nothing but total blackness. She raised a hand to her face-not even a centimeter away from her nose-and wiggled the digits in front of her eyes.

Nothing. Not even a shred of motion to betray their movement. The blackness consumed her vision.

Gooseflesh appeared on her skin as fear began to stir in her heart. Am I… am I dead?

She remembered the inferno of crippling pain she had experienced. She remembered how alight her nerves had been from the sensation. The contrast from that to how she felt now seemed almost hilarious… yet frightening.

Suddenly, Kaz had an unnerving sensation she was being watched. She crossed her arms over herself protectively, hugging herself tight. Gooseflesh pricked over her arms and on the back of her neck.

She considered calling out, yet fear killed the words in her throat. Kaz began to shuffle forward warily, the total darkness making her furiously self-conscious.

There was her name again. It sang out from the dark, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Kaz couldn't pinpoint whether it was an old or young voice, male or female, happy or sad.

"Hello?" Kaz called back hesitantly, her voice sounding small and feeble in the black. She was all-too-aware that fear had wormed its way into her tone. She whipped her head back and forth, hoping to catch something, anything that moved in the darkness… yet at the same time afraid to.

"Hello? Am I dead?" she tried again, yet her words came out in a hoarse squeak. Is this what 'dead' feels like? No heaven… no hell… nothing?

She felt something next to her. She couldn't explain it. There was no disturbance in the air, nothing to betray the presence of another, but she knew something was there. She knew…

Kaz shrank back automatically, scuttling backward. Upon stopping she simply hovered for what seemed like eons, heart hammering in her chest. It took her three times to clear the sudden frog in her throat before she was able to speak once more.

"I-Is… is someone there?"

The silence that followed was suffocating. The presence from before didn't seem to move or respond, yet evoked a deep-set panic within her. Suddenly Kaz found it hard to breathe, and sudden dizziness had her struggling to remain upright. She felt the wetness on her cheeks before she realized she was crying.

Someone, something suddenly gripped her shoulders in bruising force. Adrenaline blazed through her in response and Kaz lashed blindly out at her offender with a shrill scream.

She heard her name again-a female's voice; young, urgent-but she would not be deterred. Kaz punched and kicked at her attacker, hollering obscenities in their general direction. She started in surprise when she felt her fist connect solidly with the soft yield of skin. A grunt of pain. The grip on her shoulders loosened.

Kaz paused, her fists still raised in anticipation. She blinked once, twice, and then a blinding light flooded her senses.

Kaz yelped, throwing her palms over her eyes as brightness invaded her senses. Persistent light peeked through the cracks in her eyelids.

In a dizzying realization Kaz realized that she was lying on her back on a lumpy, yet soft surface. She felt the light awash on her face and arms. Though at first startling, the warmth felt nice.

"Miss Klara?"

Kaz groaned at the sound of her name again, but her brain helpfully reminded her that she knew that soft, feminine voice.

"Juliet?" Kaz croaked, spreading her fingers and peeping through her hands. Again she was blinded by the onslaught of light, yet her vision cleared rapidly in a couple furious blinks. She met the dark, familiar gaze of Juliet immediately.

The girl's face was smeared with dirt, only interrupted by the dried paths that tears had made down her cheeks. Her russet locks were tousled-even more than they were before-one side matted to her head with a smear of dark blood. Her skirts were tattered and dirty, the ends looking as though she had dragged them through many mud puddles.

Kaz had never been so glad to see another person in her life. She dropped her hands, a crooked smile spreading across her face. Juliet uttered a choked half-sob, rushing up to Kaz and all-but-falling into her arms. Kaz felt the soft puff of the girl's breath on her neck.

"I-I thought you were dead!" Juliet sobbed, tumbling over her words. She had started crying, tears spilling over her cheeks and onto the soft cotton of Kaz's hoodie. Kaz didn't care in the slightest, only hugging the girl closer.

Kaz's experience in the darkness had absolutely terrified her. Hugging another person-with sunlight on her face, no less-comforted her far more than she would care to admit.

Someone clucked their tongue disapprovingly and work-christened hands appeared and shooed Juliet off of Kaz.

"Off my patient you silly girl, she is not healed quite yet."

Juliet withdrew reluctantly, stepping back with a sheepish look on her face. Her smile was unfaltering, however, as she gazed at Kaz with an expression full of relief and awe.

Kaz lowered her arms as well, turning her head to take in the other occupants in the room.

The person who had reprimanded Juliet was a curvaceous older woman. Like Juliet, she was swathed in plain skirts and an apron. A piece of material kept her long, greying hair out of her face. Like basically everyone else Kaz had met in the strange world, the woman's features were largely Anglo-Saxon with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a tall-albeit hunched due to age-stature.

Another, younger woman stood near the back of the small room, closest to the door. She was older than Kaz and Juliet, appearing as though in her mid to late-twenties. She was slim with pale features and sharp grey eyes. Her hair was parted in the middle, golden locks cascading down her back in gentle waves. Thick braids fell on either side of her face. Her attire, consisting of soft cotton and crushed velvet, seemed more elegant than any of the women's' Kaz had met so far. The woman was studying Kaz with poorly-disguised interest.

Kaz herself was lying on a mattress-stuffed with hay, it seemed-in a small room. Scratchy-looking blankets were bunched up around her feet and tangled up her ankles. Two rickety nightstands were positioned on either side of the bed. A lone stool stood at attention next to Juliet. Large windows stretched along the wall to her left, bathing the room thoroughly with sunlight. The walls and floor were plain, fashioned from sanded dark wood. A green rug splashed out on the floor, the only evidence of color in the entire room.

Kaz fidgeted nervously under the weight of the woman's stare, shifting her gaze between Juliet and the older woman. Not sure who to address, Kaz simply spoke to the room.

"Um… what happened?"

Juliet chanced a look at the older woman, who ignored Kaz's question and continued to bustle around. She seemed to be gathering up medical supplies in her arms, depositing them into a container on the nightstand.

"We were attacked by orcs," Juliet blurted, taking the older woman's silence as permission to speak. "I chanced a look behind me when I ran, you fought brilliantly Miss Klara. Fortunately a patrol of Rohirrim heard the commotion and came to our rescue. You were wounded so they took you back to Edoras. You were… unconscious for two days."

"Two days?!" Kaz gasped, bolting upright. A sharp twinge of pain in her gut sent her back down again, clutching her gut with a moan. Her heart sank in dismay—was there still a gaping hole in her stomach?

Kaz looked down, flinching when she caught sight of the state of her hoodie. There was a fist-sized hole in the front of her hoodie surrounded by a large, macabre blood stain that ran all the way down her hoodie and up her chests. It looked as though someone had taken a paint bucket full of red paint and lobbed its entire contents at her stomach.

Kaz sucked in a breath and bravely lifted the hem of her hoodie up to appraise the damage, blinking instead at fresh gauze wrapped securely around her belly.

"No sudden movements!" the woman chastised, waggling a finger at her impatiently. "You heal well but you're no Béma!"

It was then Kaz realized that the woman was her doctor. She probably should have realized this earlier, when she had referred to Kaz as her 'patient,' but Kaz was slow in regaining her bearings. This shouldn't come as a surprise to her, because apparently she'd been unconscious for two whole days. She wondered how that amount of time translated in the real world.

The woman gathered up the remaining medical supplies with a huff, pausing to fix Kaz with a stern look.

"No sudden movements. I will be back in a couple hours to change your bandages."

"Yes m'am," Kaz acknowledged, a little daunted by the woman's steely tone.

The doctor, however, had already turned her back. Supplies in hand, she headed towards the door, pausing only nod and murmur a "m'lady" to the woman camped out by the door. The younger woman's head inclined slightly in acknowledgement, yet her eyes never left Kaz.

As the door clicked shut, the woman made her way towards Juliet and Kaz. Her eyes betrayed no indication of her intentions. She looked at Juliet, who, like Kaz, fidgeted under the sudden attention. The woman's words, however, were gentle.

"Go, child. Bathe and see to your people. They will want to hear news of Klara's awakening."

Juliet nodded, chancing a final look at Kaz before dropping into a neat curtsey. "Yes, my lady." She then hurried out the door. Kaz wanted to yell at her to come back, that she didn't want to be alone with this strange woman, but Juliet was gone before Kaz had a chance to summon the nerve.

Wait a minute… her 'people?'

Does that mean that there were those from their group that were still alive? Kaz thought of Aldrich, of how that orc had buried its sword into the flesh of his back. In her mind's eye Kaz could still recall how his body had jerked forward; that shocked expression that was now permanently frozen on his face was etched into her memory.

Kaz thought of the sparkling dark eyes of Tranter as he had first gazed up at her. She thought of the gratitude the beautiful, shy Clothilde had expressed to her for rescuing them from the orcs on her first night in this strange dream world. She thought of Palma's complete lack of hesitance in trusting Kaz, how the lines around her eyes would crinkle as she smiled. She thought of Allard, and how he had run at her as the orc's blade had disappeared into her body. She thought of Warden/Rhett, and actually felt remorse for never remembering who was who.

She even thought of that proud asshole Tompkin, with his mocking smile she just wanted to rip off his face and stamp in the dirt. He wasn't her favorite figment of imagination, but she didn't think she'd be totally disappointed to see him alive.

"Who else made it? From my group?" Kaz exclaimed urgently. She bent at the waist again-slowly this time-and eased herself into a sitting position.

The woman raised an eyebrow at her, surprised at her sudden statement. "You are not from Upbourn, yet you have an affinity for these people."

Someone from her group must have informed them of Kaz's exotic background. Not that it was hard to determine that from simply looking at her. If all of Edoras consisted of tall, blue-eyed blondes-which it is turning out to look like-then Kaz is going to stick out like a sore thumb.

"They… took me in," Kaz replied, recalling the undeterred kindness of Palma and Aldrich with a pang. "They didn't have to."

The woman nodded, accepting her answer.

"So tell me, do all women of your land know how to fight as you do? Do they all heal as you do?"

"Heal?" Kaz echoed dumbly. She curled one arm around her waist protectively.

"You suffered a wound you should never have recovered from," the woman continued, her grey eyes glittering as she scrutinized Kaz. "My brother was foolish to attempt to save you, yet here you are."

Brother?

In a flash, Kaz remembered the blonde, bearded rider that she had woken up to on the horse, the one who had confused her for a boy and urged her to hold on. Was this his sister?

Kaz glanced down at her bandaged stomach in confusion. She remembered the pain, the agony she had suffered at the result of the orc's wicked blade. She remembered waking up-oh god Jay…

She recalled waking up with bloody feet after dreaming about running across rooftops in this weird, backwards world. Had that happened again? Was she sitting in a hospital bed right now… or a coffin? Vivid images of blood soaking through her clothes and mattress popped up in her mind, making her sick to her stomach.

The woman, seeming to sense that Kaz was losing herself to her own thoughts, interjected sharply.

"The orc blade was poisoned, yet the poison simply seeped out of your belly upon your arrival. Your flesh knit together in mere moments. All that remains is a simple slash, a mere nick! Are you a witch? A sorcerer?"

"No, I…" Kaz muttered distractedly. "I… I'm not. I just heal fast."

The woman stared at her, unconvinced. Any further interrogation was halted, however, as the heavy door to the bedroom was opened with a click. A familiar man took a few steps into the room, meeting Kaz's gaze before turning towards the woman.

Kaz recognized him as her savior in this world, this woman's brother. He looked different without his armor, clothed instead in a light tunic and dark pants, yet it was him nonetheless. He sported a fresh, blossoming bruise on his right cheek. Kaz wondered at it as she smiled in his direction, hoping her affection was conveyed appropriately in her expression.

"Éowyn, Théoden would like to see the girl in the Golden Hall," the man said directly to the blonde woman.

"You mean Wormtongue would like to see her," the woman, Éowyn snapped irritably. She lifted her chin to stare directly at her brother. "The girl is not fully healed."

"The girl is sitting right here," Kaz snapped irritably. She was already grumpy from not knowing what was going on in the real world, and the way the blondes were speaking about her as if she wasn't there got on her nerves.

The siblings turned to stare at her in surprise, momentarily taken off guard from her outburst. In only a moment, however, small smiles adorned each of their faces. The man seemed amused, while Éowyn's smile appeared… fond?

"Forgive me m'lady, I have forgotten my manners," the man apologized, inclining his head in a neat bow in her direction. "It pleases me that you are well and on your path to recovery."

Kaz uttered a small, satisfied "harrumph" in response. She was surprised and embarrassed by the sudden chivalry, yet a part of her was secretly pleased.

The man turned back to his sister, his look becoming serious.

"Regardless of whom, Miss Klara's presence is requested in the Golden Hall," the man stated with finality, nodding at Kaz. "M'lady."

He then took his leave, disappearing back behind the door. Kaz looked at Éowyn, who appeared troubled.

"Who's Théoden?" Kaz asked her. She wished Jay were here, she was sure he could rattle off the names and ranks of all the people in this world.

"The King of Rohan," the woman responded.

"Oh."

Éowyn had left, giving Kaz a few minutes to collect herself before promising to escort her to this 'Golden Hall.' The thought of a 'Golden Hall' gave Kaz a very weird mental image of an entire throne room swathed entirely in gold, complete with golden utensils and napkin holders. She wondered absently if they had napkin holders in Middle Earth.

Middle Earth. Ugh.

Kaz flopped back onto the bed with an exasperated sigh, throwing her arms over her face. Her stomach ached in protest of her actions, yet she ignored it. Kaz attempted to reconstruct her memories from these last couple of days (days? Really?), pulling together the foggy bits and trying to make sense of them.

She remembered Jay and Erik coming over and hanging out. She remembered that Erik had gone home while Jay slept over on the couch. She remembered being "woken up" by Juliet shaking her roughly. She remembered summoning her omnipotent dream powers and laying into those orcs before getting distracted and getting stabbed.

She clearly remembered passing out in this world and waking up in the real world to Jay's worried face. Then she must've passed out again, because she's back in Middle Earth.

What's going on the real world right now?

Kaz had a thought suddenly that she had died that morning in her bedroom-on Jay's fucking birthday-and that she was destined to live out the rest of her existence in this sexist, medieval dream world.

The thought made her shudder.

She thought back to the last couple of times she had found herself in this backwards dream state. Her presence seemed to correlate with when she went to sleep—in either world. When she fell asleep against that tree trunk after fleeing from the burning village, and again when she had managed to fall asleep upon the cold, rocky ground in the field.

Kaz wondered if that would happen again if she attempted to fall asleep in this bed. Her body and mind, however, were completely charged. She doubted she'd be able to doze off before Éowyn came back for her. She wasn't sure she really wanted to go back to the real world quite yet, anyway.

Kaz was afraid of what she'd find.

After a moment's consideration, Kaz struggled to her feet. Her wound complained annoyingly, and Kaz paused to glower down at it.

Fuck you. Heal.

And it did. Of course, Kaz couldn't tell due to the concealment of the bandages, but when she prodded the wound experimentally there was no indication of pain. She used her nails to tear open the gauze, peeling away the cloth to expose her belly and smooth, olive skin. Even that freckle by her bellybutton had resurfaced. She had never been so happy to see that freckle in her life.

Kaz wadded up the soiled bandages and-not seeing any other sensible option-stuffed the bundle under her bed. The stern doctor from earlier would discover the truth eventually, but if hiding the evidence helped to defer the accusations of her being a witch Kaz was all for it.

At the thought, her brain helpfully supplied information about the Salem Witch Trials in Massachusetts they had learned about in her high school history class, complete with the gory depictions of women wiggling on the ends of nooses. She swallowed hard, praying that this day wouldn't end with her being chased out of town by torches and pitchforks.

"Miss Klara, are you ready?" Éowyn's voice questioned through the thick wood of the door.

Crap. That wasn't a couple minutes, that was like two seconds!

"Um… just a moment!" Kaz floundered, searching around the room for any evidence of a mirror of some sort. Her hands reached up to flatten her hair in a vain attempt to look presentable, when a thought made her freeze. My beanie! She dashed around the room, yet this seemed to be the only article of clothing that had gone missing from her person.

So Éowyn had seen her with her short pink hair. So had everyone else, apparently. Those torches and pitchforks were beginning to take real shape in her mind.

Kaz recalled how Tompkin's eyes had glowed in pride when he spoke of the people of Rohan, and that howshewas going to meet with its King. Yet, there didn't seem to be any evidence of a mirror of any kind, so Kaz gave up. They're just going to have to deal with the fact she looked like she just staggered out of a horror movie.

She was already a complete mystery to these people, what would it hurt being an unkempt mystery at that? She didn't much care about impressing anyone, especially a figment of her imagination, when there might be a very real danger she was lying on a hospital bed-or worse-in the real world.

"I'm ready," Kaz called, futilely smoothing out the wrinkles of her soiled cargo pants.

Éowyn opened the door, giving her a look that made Kaz fight not to squirm. A curtain of dark brown cloth was draped over her arm.

"I searched the Healer's Houses, but could not locate attire that would fit your stature at such short notice," Éowyn told her, her tone apologetic.

Kaz just blinked in surprise at the woman. She hadn't really expected much hospitality towards her to begin with—the thought of asking for fresh clothes from anyone hadn't even occurred to her.

Éowyn raised her arm, offering the dark cloth towards Kaz.

"I have a cloak for you to use, instead. Éomer has advised me that it would be wise to keep the hood up to hide the hue of your hair. Ever since the wizard arrived last week, speaking of foul things from the east, the people have been wary of outsiders."

But not you? Kaz thought suspiciously, accepting the fabric from Éowyn's outstretched arm. The mention of a 'wizard,' however, gave her hope. If there's a guy running around doing magickey things, then maybe her omnipotent dream powers won't seem so farfetched.

Kaz struggled with the material for a full minute before the older woman relented and helped her, showing her how the ties in the front worked to fashion a large hood. The cloak felt heavy on her and Kaz had to lift up the hem to keep the material from dragging on the floor. The hood basically concealed her whole face and Kaz wondered if the only thing any passerby would see from her would be the whites of her eyes peering out. Perhaps Éowyn wanted it that way.

"Thank you," Kaz murmured as the two women managed to dress her correctly. She wondered if she'd ever change out of her pants and ruined hoodie, if all clothing in this strange world was this complicated to get on.

Éowyn beckoned for Kaz to follow her and the latter shuffled out after the taller woman as quickly as she could. She had once watched the first Star Wars movie with her dad when she was little, and she remembered the little cloaked figures in the desert that had kidnapped the droids and attempted to sell them for scrap. Jawas, I think they're called? At any rate, Kaz felt very much like one of those little guys.

"Hey… Éowyn? Is Éomer the guy that was just here?" Kaz asked the woman's back. The names 'Éowyn' and 'Éomer' sounded similar enough; it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to assume they may be the siblings.

Kaz kept her voice low as she spoke. The hallways they were navigating seemed so quiet it seemed rude to speak above a whisper.

"Yes," she replied after a moment's hesitation, "He is also the one you struck while in fitful sleep."

Kaz drew to a halt, eyes wide. She recalled the purpling bruise blossoming on the man's cheek. Did she do that? She remembered lashing out at something in her dreams, yet she never thought she'd ever possess the strength to ever lay a bruise of that magnitude on someone else… much less a full-grown man.

Fuckin' omnipotent dream powers.

"Keep up," Éowyn chastised, yet there was a smile in her voice. Kaz hastily scurried after the woman, hiking up the hem of the cloak to prevent herself from falling flat on her face.

"Please tell Éomer I'm sorry," Kaz flustered when she caught up. The man was the one who had rescued her, after all. Dragged her bleeding butt all the way to Edoras. And then she repaid him by punching him in the face and snapping at him. At this rate, it'd be a wonder if she wasn't chased out of the city solely for being tactless.

Éowyn didn't respond aloud. They had reached a high set of double doors. Kaz could hear the laughing of people and the whinnying of horses beyond, so she assumed that it led out into the city. The flaxen-haired woman looked at her then, quirking an eyebrow and raising a single digit to her lips.

So Éowyn wanted her to be quiet. Okay.

Éowyn then turned and shoved against the door, pushing open the heavy wooden thing. Sunlight streamed into the hallway, momentarily blinding the two of them. Éowyn turned to smile at Kaz, the sunlight lighting up her hair and creating a stunning halo-effect.

"Welcome to Edoras, Miss Klara."

Author's Note: FYI - The date of Middle Earth in this chapter is September 26th, 3018. This is three days after Gandalf first leaves Edoras with Shadowfax.